


Give and Take

by captainworsley



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst and Porn, Daddy Kink, Guilt, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Porn with Feelings, mostly angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-09-18 02:30:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9361943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainworsley/pseuds/captainworsley
Summary: In which Barba is lowkey into dominating Carisi, and Carisi needs it as much as he does.  Looking to explore the development of this dynamic and bonus points I hope for the sexy concept of affirmative consent.





	1. you know just how to look to get what it is you want

**Author's Note:**

> [chapter title is from "complete surrender" by slow club which is a very good song and a possible Barisi relationship anthem if we are being very real with each other]
> 
> Takes place at the end of the first day of trial in 16x23. Sonny is worried about everything, always, and needs some help letting himself unwind. Rafael notices an opportunity and runs with it.
> 
> I haven't written fanfic in probably six ??? years so I hope this is as fun for everyone else as it was for me!

"I'd never tell anyone this, and I certainly wouldn't tell her to her face, but I'm worried about the Sarge," Sonny said to Rafael. They were in Barba's office after the first day's testimony in the John Drake case; Detective Carisi had shown up unannounced, looking rattled. The ADA had been looking forward to retreating home for the night, but Carisi had barged in just as he was gathering his things, and started talking about Olivia.

Rafael had a hard time knowing what to make of the detective's concerns. He and Sergeant Benson had become friends through the course of their work, and he couldn't think of a cop that he respected more in the entire NYPD. So when a member of her squad came to him this upset, he took notice; but he also didn't want to make it into more than it was. Detective Carisi was young (embarrassingly so, sometimes) and used his heart more than his head to guide his work. Rafael had noticed the way he could read people, though. He had a knack for zeroing in on what was bothering someone. But, it didn't seem he could turn off his highly sensitive empathy radar when he needed to.

Rafael sighed. "She's honest to a fault, but she can take care of herself," he said. The last thing that Liv needed was Carisi texting her emojis all night in some misguided attempt to comfort her. "Between you and me, I advised her against making the disclosure about Noah's parentage, because I knew it would come out like this. But, there's nothing we can do about it now. The bell's been rung. And I have court in the morning." He looked at his watch and hoped that Carisi would take his cue to leave. But he didn't.

"How long have you known?" Detective Carisi asked, a little more loudly than Barba would have liked, so he quietly crossed the room to shut the door.

"That's really not any of your business. Olivia came to me as a friend, and don't worry. It's in my professional and personal interest to protect her. I'm going to make sure that Johnny D goes away for a long time."

"It's in your personal interest, is it?" Carisi blurted.

"I'm sorry, Detective, is there something else bothering you?" Barba said, incredulously. He'd returned to his position behind his desk. He was starting to wonder if this visit was more personal than professional for Carisi. He'd noticed the detective's extremely active interest in his work as a lawyer and his penchant for being told he was right. Barba could sense that he was feeling needy, in want of validation.

He was rarely attracted to cops on the job, but when he was, they were usually not so eager. The last cop he'd hooked up with--a homicide detective from Brooklyn--had a nasty sense of humor that had made Rafael feel prudish by comparison. Their trysts has started during trial prep, when, after a brief but heated disagreement about a witness's statement, the younger detective had slapped him. But he'd been making eyes at the guy all week, and by the time it escalated, Rafael had already been hard. Barba was starting to feel tempted again, except this time, he wanted to be the one in charge. He'd done it before; he missed it. He tried to push that feeling back down into his stomach, but he'd already snapped a bit, maybe sounded flirtatious when he'd spoken to Carisi. Couldn't take it back now, he supposed.

Carisi was looking at him a little slack-jawed. It was a few moments before he spoke, and Rafael noticed that his eyes had misted over a bit. It had been a long day in court. He was probably exhausted, on top of whatever he was feeling. "It's just. . .excuse me, counselor, you ever just feel powerless? Or maybe, I don't know, want to feel more powerless so that you don't have to worry about trying to fix it anymore?"

Barba wondered how much he could push this. Carisi's body was all at odd angles, but soft, and looked pliable. "I've felt powerless before," he said, and flashed a smile at the younger man. "We all have different ways of dealing with that."

"What's your way, counselor?" Carisi crossed his arms.

"Might be different from yours," Barba said. He thought for a second about what he was about to say, but he didn't wait for the logical part of his brain to give a verdict before he spoke again. "Get on your knees."

"What?" Carisi sputtered. "What do you mean?"

Barba smirked, and reached down inside himself to summon his best cross-examination voice. He was glad that he'd sent Carmen home early. "I said _get on your knees_ , Detective, do I have to repeat myself?" He realized that this could backfire very badly, and almost laughed at himself. Carisi had furrowed his brow and set his jaw; Rafael expected him to storm out. But then, shockingly, Detective Carisi got on his knees. 

Rafael moved to the open space in the middle of his office, where Carisi had knelt down. He knelt down himself, and looked the detective in the eye. He'd unbuttoned his jacket, and rested his elbow on his knee as he examined every inch of Detective Caris's face. "Do you know what this is, Detective?"

"I'm not totally sure, counselor," Sonny said, and swallowed.

"Do you want me to take control of this situation? I mean that," Rafael paused, "in a sexual way. I'm not usually this forward. I took a risk, asking you to do what I just did. And it stops here if you don't want this. We don't have to talk about it again. You have my word."

Sonny didn't know what he was feeling at the moment, if he was honest with himself. He'd felt himself steadily improving as a detective from his arrival at SVU. His casework had been solid and his interviewing skills were getting better every day. He'd learned a trick, which was to imagine, for a split second, that the suspect was your best friend. _What would you worry about, if you loved this person?_ he thought. And then, depending on the situation, he'd turn on the charm or the authoritarian drag.

But he couldn't shake the feeling that pulled in his chest sometimes that he was missing something, that there was something else he could fix if only he knew what it was. He knew that he seemed over-eager sometimes, and he promised himself that he'd dial it back, but every time he did, the next day he was at it again. He couldn't sleep some nights, overthinking his own behavior, overthinking a case, overthinking something from class. It would often start with something small, like not being sure what he was going to wear the next day, or a missed call from one of his sisters that turned out to be nothing. Then he'd have his notes and his laptop spread out in front of him, and he'd be contemplating the grand sprawl of his life while simultaneously trying to solve impossible problems.

He couldn't deny, though, that the moment he got on his knees for ADA Barba he had felt weightless. He was looking at the counselor's eyes -- they were soft, and honest. "Do whatever you want," he heard himself say.

Barba's eyes changed instantly, seemed to spark and brighten. He reached out to touch the detective's face gently. He reached at the back of Carisi's head, and curled his fingers into his hair (too long, he thought, and too much product). He grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled. Hard. Carisi winced. Rafael kissed him then, and Sonny felt a deep warmth inside himself. He couldn't catch his breath. Barba's tongue was in his mouth, and he was responding in turn, _kissing back_. The ADA's mouth felt warm, and safe. But it was over soon. It had tasted so good, though, Sonny thought, and the strength of the other man's conviction when he kissed him had been undeniable. Sonny wanted to be kissed like that every day. He'd never felt anything like it before.

"I'm not into games, Detective," Barba said. "You say no, you say stop, I stop. Otherwise, we do what's called affirmative consent. Which is a concept I'm sure you're familiar with." He was standing, and loosening his tie. Carisi noticed how painfully erect he was already, and that the hardwood floor in the office was already starting to hurt his knees. "Do you want me to tie you up, Carisi?"

"Yes, counselor."

"Hands behind your back, then," Barba said, but he didn't sound like a cop. Carisi did as he was told. "Look straight ahead." 

Barba's tie was gone Sonny felt silk looping, tightening around his wrists. With a gentle shove, he was off balance, and he fell. His hipbone planted into the floor. It hurt a little, but he didn't mind. He came to rest on his side.

Barba knelt next to him again, ran a hand over his face, and looked directly into Sonny's eyes, looking almost concerned. "You look delicious like that, you know, Detective," he said.

Sonny didn't answer. Something in Barba's eyes made him think that it wasn't his turn to speak. Barba was undoing his pants, taking his dick out, stroking it until he was hard. He wanted to reach out and touch it, but being tied up, of course, he couldn't. He'd fooled around a little bit in high school with other guys; once on a basketball trip and once in the boiler room. Both times, he'd initiated; he'd opened his big mouth and stunned himself by following through with his advances, only to be ashamed later and to cut his partners off completely. He'd ruined perfectly good friendships over it. Almost gotten into a fistfight on the basketball court, too, when the guy he'd given a blowjob to the night before, a point guard on the opposing team, had inadvertently fouled him while he was trying to make a pass. Carisi saw himself as an intensely physical person. Not being able to initiate here was maddening. But he found himself enjoying watching ADA Barba jerk himself off while staring into his eyes.

"Can I put my dick in your mouth, Detective?" Barba said, almost whispering.

Carisi nodded. 

Barba stood over him, knelt down. Instead of directly putting it in Sonny's mouth, he moved it around the outside, brushed it up against Carisi's chin. "Do you like that?" 

"Yes," Carisi whispered back. "I wanna taste it so bad, counselor."

"Will you suck on my balls, Carisi?"

"Mmmhmm," Sonny said, nodding.

Barba put his balls in Carisi's mouth; the younger man's tongue was gentle, exploratory; Rafael closed his eyes and bit his lip, it was almost too good, to have stumbled across somebody so green at this, and so interested in pleasing him. He knew he wouldn't take long. "You ever suck dick before, Detective?" he asked.

He only got a muffled affirmative reply, and some other mumbling, with his balls still jammed in Carisi's mouth. 

"I don't know what that means," he said, exasperated, "but I'll take it." He gently lifted his balls out of the detective's mouth, and Carisi took the rest of him in.

As always, the detective was eager to please, running his tongue slowly up and down Barba's shaft, sucking hungrily.

"Stop for a moment," Rafael said quietly, and Sonny complied. "Sit up." He grabbed the detective and pulled him up so that he was sitting with his back leaned up against Barba's desk. Carisi was tall. Sitting up straight, his face was waist level with Barba. 

Sonny noticed an almost sad look in Barba's eyes before he swallowed the ADA's dick again; sitting up, he was able to establish a rhythm, to take him in deeper, to breathe better.

"I'm going to fuck your face, Detective," Barba said, and he did, his fingernails gripping into the back of Carisi's neck as he moved slowly and not-too-forcefully into Carisi's throat again and again. Carisi felt him stiffen further inside his mouth, enormous, warm, and strained. He came explosively and all at once, with his whole body; the low moan he did as he finished was filthy. 

Sonny swallowed every drop of his orgasm and enjoyed the sensation of the other man's body weight against his face, before they disentangled and Barba sank to the floor next to him. Carisi couldn't ever recall a time he had seen the assistant district attorney look truly undone, or even sweaty, for that matter. His face was flush, his suspenders hung around his waist, and it seemed he may have accidentally lost a button on his shirt.

". . .I wanna touch you, counselor," Sonny begged. Barba had lazily draped his arm around him, but the younger man was still tied up, and Carisi knew it was a good knot because he'd been passively straining against it and couldn't find a single fault in its execution.

"You've done enough touching," Barba said. "I'll untie you," he breathed, catching his breath, reaching for a water bottle from his desk top and accidentally knocking it over before being able to pull it down to him on the floor. "But I want you to touch yourself. Do you understand?"

Carisi nodded, and Barba reached behind him and undid his knot quickly, effortlessly. He threw the tie across the room; it was a purple paisley one with pale blue accents that matched the attorney's shirt. It looked ruined, rumpled, sweat-stained, but Sonny supposed that Barba had a limitless supply of ties.

Barba stood up, and came around to face Carisi. He could see Carisi's erection in his pants. He rolled his sleeves up, crossed his arms. "I wanna see you touch yourself, Detective. I want you to come for me."

Carisi did as he was told; he undid his pants and started touching himself. He had never done this with anyone watching before, and it was unnerving, but he felt much lighter than he had when he walked in. Something about the intensity of Barba's stare made him feel like he could do anything. He returned his gaze, started directly into his eyes. When Barba spoke, Carisi couldn't help but whimper.

"You like what you see?" he said, in an interrogatory tone; he could have just as easily been questioning a hostile witness. He licked his lips, pulled up his suspenders, put one hand on his hip. "You liked having me in your mouth, Detective?"

"I did," Carisi said; he was stroking himself faster now.

"You have a beautiful mouth, Detective," Barba said. "I've hated all this time watching it go to waste."

There was no verbal response. Carisi came extremely quickly; Barba correctly guessed that it had been quite some time since he'd found the time to take care of himself. There was something about having been given permission, been _told to_ , that made it easier for him. Instead of letting himself worry about whether he could be doing something better with his time, he had been given clear instructions, and knew what he was supposed to do.

Rafael surprised himself by fetching the detective some tissues and, instead of turning his back on him, he reached a hand out and helped Carisi stand up. He suddenly felt embarrassed at how quickly he'd let that escalate. "Was that. . ." he started, but trailed off.

Carisi grinned, repositioned his own tie clip. "Usually don't see you at a loss for words," he said. "It was fine. This was good, actually." A pause. "I needed that," he added, more softly.

"I might have needed that too," Barba said. He was looking down at his desk, not at Carisi; he looked surprised. Sonny had seen that expression before; it reminded him of someone dealing with a good memory about someone they'd rather forget about.

"Obviously, you have my utmost discretion, counselor," Carisi said, pausing to check the reflection of his hair in the glass front of a bookshelf. He pulled a comb out of his jacket pocket and straightened it all out. He didn't look any the worse for wear.

"Court tomorrow," Barba said, as if just remembering. "Shit."

"Yeah well. . .if you ever wanna talk, Barba, you have my number," Sonny said. He felt better, but he had a feeling that by letting himself go like that he'd made the ADA confront something that he hadn't been ready to confront yet. Barba was still looking right through him as Carisi carefully showed himself out of the office. "Goodnight," they said, at the same time. Sonny had a feeling they'd end up doing this again.


	2. you fell from great heights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barba has a ton of angst about his own mortality and wants to focus on making Sonny feel good instead. But first he has to mope around about his feelings of inadequacy and drink some scotch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [title is from "fistful of swoon" by vandaveer]
> 
> takes place after 16x24. i am impatient so am posting this without going back to edit. might come back and update. **this chapter contains a brief use of a homophobic slur, please let me know if you think it's significant enough to require a tag rather than this pre-chapter warning**

Rafael hated looking over his shoulder, but he'd been doing it his whole life. Kids from his neighborhood had been a problem, of course, but that was just kid stuff that anyone might go through. His personal level of tolerance for violence and microaggression had only escalated over the years. 

Sometimes it was drunk townies on the Red Line calling him a faggot as he tried to make his way back to Cambridge after a night of partying in Boston. Sometimes it was anonymous letters that came to his office, saying he'd be sorry for prosecuting someone's cousin or brother or lover or gang leader. 

He hated guns, was the thing. Couldn't stand them. He wanted to say that he respected law enforcement and that being a district attorney was his way of keeping the bad guys off the streets, but if Rafael was honest with himself, his motivations for pursuing the career had been more ego than anything else. He recognized in his older age that much of his youthful ambition had been about courting positive attention, attaining the lifestyle he wanted, assembling the cultural cachet of an educated and wealthy man. He hadn't exactly planned on getting shot at, is what he was trying to say.

But -- he wasn't saying anything. He was silently pacing his office. He was, begrudgingly, thinking about Carisi. The detective carried a gun, of course, and had to get over the idea that he might get shot pretty much every day. Life and death were abstract concepts to Rafael. But Detective Carisi had to have some kind of concrete concept of them, right? Rafael wanted to hear it -- from Carisi's mouth -- what it was like to actually live with that reality. He thought back to what Carisi had said in his office the day before, about feeling helpless. How do you feel helpless when your main job is just doing the right thing?

Rafael knew he was oversimplifying the situation.

"Can we get a drink?" he texted. Then put his phone on silent, put it face down on his desk, and poured himself a scotch to get started. He waited.

He flipped his phone over two minutes later. Nothing. Kicked the scotch back, waited. Four minutes later? Nothing. Five minutes later: "yeah sure." Pause. Two minutes later. The name of a bar a little further uptown than Rafael usually ventured, and a cross street. He finished the scotch and went downstairs, outside. He stood in the light drizzle for a few minutes trying to hail a cab.

When he finally made it to the bar, Carisi was outside, leaning up against a wall, still dressed for work. Like his badge was on his hip. Rafael didn't like that.

"Looking to make everyone on this corner yell out that the five-oh's here, Detective?"

"Oh shit, counselor, forgot about that," Carisi said, with a warm smile. He unclipped his badge from his belt and slid it into his coat pocket. "I probably shouldn't have brought my gun. I'm just. . .a little distracted. Obviously."

"We all are," Rafael said. "Come on. Inside."

~~~~

Sonny didn't need to be told twice, of course, but he wondered what the point was of this rendezvous. He'd made sure that they weren't too far from his place but he didn't want to be too close either. He had ignored his body's pleas for sleep and had been stomping around the squad room, intermittently doing paperwork. Sarge had told him to go home, even ordered him to at one point, but he said he was worried about being alone right now. She had asked if he could call his sister. Sonny really didn't want to talk to his sister, and he'd said so. She'd just tell his mom what had happened, and then the phone calls would start, the crying, the rosaries.

Instead, he found himself seated next to Barba at a dive bar. He liked the way the evening was going.

"Buchanan's, straight up, please" was Barba's order at the bar. Carisi muttered a "same for me" though he didn't exactly know what type of drink Buchanan's was. It turned out to be a scotch. Of course.

A few sips into the scotch and Sonny had found his big mouth again. "So, Barba, what's going on with you, huh? Since you texted me and all?"

Barba sighed, and rolled his eyes a bit before answering. "I wanted to ask you," he started, and there was no barb in his voice, "if you ever feel safe on the job?" It was an honest question, Sonny could tell, and he didn't know how he should feel about being asked something so direct by someone who was usually extremely guarded with him.

"I don't think about safety, really, at least not my own, counselor," Sonny answered. "You're worried about serving and protecting and your fellow officers and any civilians and all that stuff they beat into your head at the academy. You don't even really think about your gun -- it's almost like it's not a gun. More of an extension of yourself."

"Hmmm. That makes sense."

"Guns are overrated, honestly. If I weren't a cop I wouldn't want one, that's for sure."

"But you are a cop," Barba said, and glanced up at Sonny with big, mournful eyes. Sonny felt something catch in his chest just then that he didn't really want examine.

"Can't help it, can I, at this point?"

Barba finished his drink and raised his hand to the bartender for another. "No you can't, Detective, you most certainly cannot help it."

Sonny didn't really know what this comment meant but wasn't about to push his luck getting answers out of the ADA. He would probably be better served by listening than talking at this point, though he knew the more he drank, the less he could trust himself to stick to that plan.

"I realized today that I've been spending what, 45 years? Trying to get away from my own feelings of inadequacy. Of course, leave it to me to be thinking about myself at a time like this. I guess confronting my own mortality caught me off guard. But damn, I feel selfish," Barba said. His voice was different than any voice that Sonny had heard him use before; it was a softer voice for private conversations. It was intimate, vulnerable.

"You didn't have anyone else you wanted to call tonight, Barba?" Whoops. There he went again.

"I already talked to my mother, my abuela is dead, my father is dead, and all my friends are either lawyers or alarmists. Or both." He paused. "I wanted to see you." But Barba didn't look at him.

~~~~

Twenty minutes later, they were locked in one of the bar's restrooms. Rafael had Sonny pinned up against the wall, and was trying to get a few looks around the room to make sure it was relatively clean (he didn't want to get his suit dirty).

Rafael wanted to put his hands everywhere, of course; Carisi's ass, his hips, his neck, his hair; where his hands couldn't get easily he was using his mouth. He tasted the scotch in Carisi's mouth along with the detective's cheap aftershave. It was sour and tangy and earthy all at once -- the aftershave in particular was disgusting, but his disdain for it made him want to taste it more. He grunted into Carisi's mouth, grinding up against his thigh. 

Carisi returned the gesture, though his wrists were pinned at his sides now. Rafael bit and sucked at his neck, wanted to order him to turn around, but stopped himself.

"You want me to touch you, Detective?"

"Yes. Please," Carisi moaned. The bathroom was dark, though there was a dim bulb on the wall, and Rafael could see Carisi's eyes looking down at him.

In that moment, Rafael wanted to focus all of his energy on someone else for once. "Don't fucking move," he said -- since that didn't mean he wasn't going to enjoy himself.

He got down on his knees and undid Carisi's belt -- the worn leather felt soft and cracked under his fingers, and he thought about possible uses for this later. But not now. Just the button, the zipper.

He reached his hand in to find Carisi's erection, firm and smooth and warm; he pulled it out of his pants and examined it in the soft light. He hadn't gotten a close look at it, of course, in their previous encounter; he'd kept his distance, was getting off on watching. Now he wanted to feel everything. He ran his hand slowly up and down the shaft, appraising the way that Carisi's hips rocked gently into him.

When he put his mouth on him, removed his hand, Carisi became like liquid under him -- he groaned loudly, went weak-kneed. 

"I said not to move," Rafael said, slowly withdrawing his tongue, but he'd give Carisi a break. Probably.

He took him in fully, letting the tip go all the way to the back of his throat. He wanted to drink him, like he would a glass of iced water after walking across a fucking desert; he wanted all of him. He could feel his lips around the base of Carisi's cock. He moved his tongue against the entire length of him, moved his head up and down, wrapped his hands around Carisi's thighs to pull him closer.

Carisi slumped further against the wall and ran his fingers through Rafael's hair. Rafael could hear him moaning his last name -- Barba -- and was glad the music in the bar was too loud for anyone outside to hear. Otherwise, he might have had to punish the detective (later, perhaps) for his imprudence.

When Carisi came, the heat in Rafael's throat was delicious, savory; he lapped it up hungrily, and it kept coming. When he was finally done, Rafael extricated himself slowly, with one last suck -- Carisi yelped out, loudly.

"Jesus Christ," Carisi said, and crossed himself. Rafael laughed at him, stood up, and used two fingers to get some cum from the corner of his own mouth before putting them in Carisi's open mouth. The detective's tongue curled around his fingers and sucked. Rafael smirked, but then looked away. He withdrew his fingers, hearing a whimper.

"I'm going to take care of the tab," Rafael said. "I'll leave first."

"Wait, wait, wait, now, a second, Barba," Carisi said.

"What now? Don't tell me you're complaining."

"What is this, now? What are we doing here?"

"That is a conversation we might want to have, but not here, not right now. As long as--" Rafael paused, and looked directly into Carisi's eyes, "as long as you are okay with this. This is okay?"

"It's okay," Carisi answered. "I wanted you. I still want you."

"Then, we're in agreement about that," Rafael said, stopping himself short of telling Carisi how much he also wanted him, all to himself. . .

"You can go. We'll talk later. Take care of yourself, counselor."

"I'm serious. We will talk," Rafael said. He reached out and touched the side of Carisi's face; it felt cool from sweat. He thought of saying something else -- maybe that he didn't want to always be like this. But instead he straightened his tie and walked out. He did intend to keep his promise. But for now, he'd go home, lie in bed, stare at the ceiling, try to talk himself out of jerking off, and figure out how to tell that part to someone else for the first time.


	3. i can't find the rhythm but i've got the marks to show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonny is stress cooking, and Rafael is slowly coming around to the idea that he is a nice and very good boy and is letting himself enjoy their time together some more. Also there is a belt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [title is from "rhythm bruises" by har mar superstar]
> 
> So this is a longer chapter with some tender moments, but it does get to the sex. Features a belt and a little bit of daddy kink. This takes place after the events of 17x3.

A lot had happened, and Sonny was trying to play it cool. Of course he'd had a lot of help, since SVU had been busy pursuing a serial killer, and that took up most of his time. Then, the nightmare scenario with that girl, Avery, and the poor kid who killed her, Darius. Barba hadn't prosecuted that case, wouldn't have, of course; which is why they gave it to O'Dwyer, and he'd "won." No one in the squad room, of course, thought that justice had been served.

When he knocked on Barba's door, it was late; he'd tried his office first, just before 2:00, but Carmen said he'd gone home sick with a migraine hours ago. Sonny had texted twice, but tried not to seem too needy. He offered to bring soup and some coffee. Barba had texted him his address and said to wait until 10:00. So Sonny had waited, though it hadn't been an easy wait. He might have baked a loaf of rosemary foccacia while he was waiting and made the Italian wedding soup himself instead of picking it up from his favorite deli. He liked his own recipe better; it's just that it took so long to make. But he'd had the day scheduled off after the end of O'Dwyer's trial. He'd had most of the ingredients he needed. The soup had just kind of appeared in his kitchen.

The coffee, of course, was from an expensive coffee shop up the street from Barba's place. He took a chance and got the counselor a cappuccino, even though he usually only saw him with drip coffee. _Too much?_ he wondered to himself. _Nah. The guy's been in bed all day with a headache. . ._

Barba answered the door in sweatpants and what Sonny considered to be a conspicuous Harvard t-shirt. He wondered if he'd put it on on purpose. Also, the sight of Rafael Barba in _sweatpants_ was making him blush to his ears. He started jabbering to make himself look at Barba's face -- and incredibly tired-looking, sad eyes -- rather than at the sweatpants.

"This is wedding soup and foccacia and a cappuccino for you -- show me where to set everything down," he said, but was already making a beeline for the kitchen counter, which he could see off to his left. He was surprised that Barba's apartment was as small as it was. He had also imagined an almost hygienic neatness, but it was a little cluttered here and there. Piles of books and the like. The kitchen was pristine though; Carisi didn't imagine that the ADA got up to much cooking.

He pressed the coffee cup into Barba's hand and started getting out his bread. It smelled amazing, he had to admit.

"Carisi, did you make all of this yourself? I mean, except for the coffee. . ." Barba took a sip, shrugged his shoulders and tilted his head in approval. "Good coffee, by the way."

"Oh you know how it is. . .you get into the kitchen and stuff just starts happening. Or maybe you don't, eh, counselor?" Carisi was rather enjoying Barba's speechlessness. Though he knew it wouldn't last long, if he kept pushing things.

"Well, I'm pleased to see that you have some talents other than chasing me around," Barba said, but there was a tugging at the corners of his mouth as he took another sip of coffee.

"I cook excellent," Sonny said. He was slipping into his Italian grandpa voice, unconsciously. "Get me some bowls. Have you eaten? Please tell me you haven't eaten."

"No, I've been asleep until an hour ago with a migraine," Barba said. "I'm starving. Thank you, Carisi, this is extremely sweet of you." Sonny noticed that the counselor was softening, though his tone was still a bit businesslike. Barba got out bowls and spoons, a cutting board, a ladel, and a bread knife. 

Sonny cut him a piece of bread -- still quite warm inside -- and managed to get the soup into some bowls without spilling any. He pushed a bowl across the counter to Barba, who was leaning there with one hand on his hip; Sonny could see a bit of skin between his t-shirt and his waistband, and he was trying not to look at it. "Well, you said we were going to talk. So let's talk."

~~~~~~~

Rafael slowly started eating the soup -- it was actually incredibly good, and he was impressed and pleased; he felt warm and cared for, for once, in an apartment that was usually empty except for him and a fuckton of paperwork. But he was eating slowly to try to stall the conversation, somehow. He hadn't been expecting this.

"It was rude of me to leave you like that," he said to Carisi without making eye contact. He startled himself, in fact, by not making eye contact. Eye contact was one thing he did very deliberately most of the time, no matter who he was speaking to. But with Detective Carisi, he'd been having problems with it. It was hard to look directly at someone, he realized, when he hadn't convinced himself that he had the upper hand. 

Carisi had the upper hand now -- he'd made all this food, and was standing there in his work clothes, his absurd little waistcoat, and about a mile of gray flannel trousers. Rafael realized he was wearing his Harvard alumni shirt and relaxed a little. He glanced up. The detective had a concerned expression on his face; he was clearly waiting for him to speak again.

"The job has been getting to me a bit lately," Barba continued, and ate some more soup (it was just so damn good), "and I enjoy spending time with you."

"Counselor, that's touching, but let's not go overboard with the emotions," Carisi said, and laughed a bit. He seemed to have guessed rightly that making fun of him was a good way to Barba's heart. "No, but. I have enjoyed spending time with you too. You know I like watching you work. I didn't know that you felt the way that you did about me, but I'd be lyin' if I said it wasn't a pleasant surprise."

"I still don't know how I feel about you, Carisi." Rafael didn't want to let his guard down too much here.

"I think you like me," Carisi said. He was practically floating around the room with self-confidence; he sure seemed to enjoy this brief moment of having the upper hand. Rafael remembered how anxious the young detective had seemed in his office, so many weeks ago now, worried about Olivia and being able to take care of everyone all at once. He wondered how many layers of bravado Carisi was layering on to drive himself to this moment, to Barba's door and to his kitchen, and (Rafael assumed, soon) to his bed.

"I do like you, Carisi."

"I like you too," Carisi said, quietly. They ate soup and bread for a few minutes together in silence.

"I hope you'll permit me a personal question, Detective. . ." Barba said, pushing his empty bowl away, "but how exactly does a good Italian Catholic boy who seemingly never left Staten Island end up on his knees in my office with my balls in his mouth?"

"Are you asking me if I've done that before?" Carisi was talking loud now, like he was in a pool hall, but his tone was still jovial. Rafael's question hadn't offended too deeply. His smug stare back at the detective was an affirmative. "I've been with guys and girls. Ever since I was a kid, I knew I wasn't straight. But no, I've never gotten on my knees for the Manhattan Assistant District Attorney before." Carisi was laughing, maybe a little nervously now.

"What made you do that?"

"You asked me to, and suddenly it felt like the right thing to do. And I wanted you."

"So you're saying, if I'm correct, that you'd get on your knees for the Manhattan Assistant District Attorney again? If so ordered?" Rafael had started using his prosecutorial affect. He wasn't sure if he'd stop, either.

~~~~~

Sonny was surprised by how quickly Barba walked over to him. He looked directly into his eyes as he reached down for Sonny's waistband, finding his belt and starting to undo it slowly. He pulled it out from its loops with a satisfying swishing noise, and then Barba started turning it over in his hands, feeling the weight of it and appraising the texture. He shifted his gaze to look at Sonny's face again; Carisi thought he seemed a lot more confident with the belt in his hands. He felt himself bite his lip.

"I wanna use this on you," Barba said. "Do you think you'd be okay with that?"

"I think I would, counselor," Carisi answered quietly; he thought about asking how, first, but he had a feeling that Barba would tell him. He was beginning to trust him with power over him, which was somehow both exciting and comforting.

"I'm gonna put this around your neck," Barba said. "I'm not going to choke you with it. I just want something to lead you around by." Sonny nodded.

The leather felt warm and smooth on his neck, though the edge of the buckle was cool and he flinched when Barba pulled it firm (but not tight) down to his skin. He kept one hand on the belt and gently pulled Carisi down towards him to kiss him. With his other hand, he touched the small of Carisi's back -- this was one of Sonny's most sensitive spots, and he groaned a bit into the kiss as Barba pressed into him with his strong fingers.

Sonny was nervous, suddenly, about reaching out and touching back; he hadn't been allowed to touch Barba yet and he wanted to so badly, but he was also concerned about behaving for him. He withdrew his mouth, and the whisper that came out was low, gravelly: "Can I touch you?"

"You may," Barba said, smirking just a little, and pulled him closer again. Sonny reached his hands up underneath the Harvard shirt, felt Barba's flushed skin and the fuzz of hair on his stomach. He was trying to map the contours of his body --

Suddenly he was pushed away, and Barba had turned, pulling him gently by the belt to take him to the couch. Sonny followed obediently but was thinking about how he hadn't gotten to spend as much time feeling him as he would have liked. The way Barba looked right now was making him weak in the knees -- with one arm up he was trailing the belt behind him (having to reach up, of course, because Sonny was so tall), and he was glancing over his shoulder with a devious look on his face, eyes lidded and tongue wetting his lips.

With a jerk of the belt Sonny knew to stop. "On your knees," Barba said, almost sweetly, and guided him downwards as he sat on the couch.

Sonny's knees hit the carpet and Barba rested his elbow on his knee, the extra length of belt wrapped around his long fingers. He smiled. "This is nice," he said. "What are we going to do with you?"

~~~~~~

Rafael was obviously already hard at the sight of Carisi kneeling there in front of him, face warm and flushed, lips swollen from kissing, with a belt around his neck.

He managed to pull down his sweatpants without jostling the belt too much, which pleased him greatly. Carisi was beginning to look anxious. Barba tightened it just a bit, he thought affectionately, kind of like a hand on the shoulder or a kiss on the cheek.

"You wanna be a good boy for me, Carisi?"

"I wanna be good for you," Carisi answered softly.

"How badly do you want to please me?" Rafael knew that he was smiling, that his voice was rising in pitch a bit. He couldn't help it.

"So badly, counselor."

"We're not in court, Carisi. Enough with the 'counselor' shit." He wasn't sure if he was ready to let Carisi call him Raf. But Rafael had an idea. "When we're using the belt, you call me daddy. Do you understand?"

"Yes, daddy --" Carisi said, but Rafael cut him off by jerking the belt down and guiding Carisi's mouth to his dick. The detective had been unprepared but Rafael appreciated how quickly he adjusted. He was committed; he knew the right amount of pressure to use with his tongue, he established a good rhythm. 

Rafael loosened the belt a bit to give him more leeway; with his other hand he encouragingly stroked Carisi's hair, running his fingers through it. "You're being a very good boy for me, Sonny," he said. He surprised himself by using Carisi's ridiculous nickname. "Just like that. Faster. Right there. Oh god --"

It didn't take long for him to be totally undone by Carisi's mouth. He felt the relief, the weightlessness of his orgasm as Sonny greedily drank it all down, taking his time to make sure he swallowed it all and risking a few more teasing laps at the head of Rafael's dick. 

Rafael was impressed. He used the belt to lightly draw Carisi up.

"You're too good at that," he blurted, and jerked the belt slightly tighter; the barely audible sound of leather straining was seductive to him, and he wanted to show Carisi how much he appreciated him. Carisi gasped; there was a look of anticipation on his face.

"I'm sorry, daddy, I --"

"No, it's a good thing," Rafael said quickly, weighing his options. "Do your knees hurt?"

"A little," Carisi admitted, softly, sheepishly.

"Well, you better get up here then," Rafael said. "While I think about what I'm going to do for you."

He let go of the belt, but left it around Carisi's neck. The mood shifted; Rafael was suddenly feeling vulnerable, and also wanted to make sure that Carisi didn't feel like he was just a fucktoy. He patted the spot on the couch next to him. Carisi sat next to him and Rafael pulled him into him, hugging him close. 

He was happy that the detective allowed his head to rest on Rafael's chest. He allowed himself to think of how much he was enjoying this; and he had to admit that Carisi's instincts to take care of him were softening his resolve. Rafael reached down, took the belt off of Carisi's neck, and tossed it aside. There were some soft pink and red straight lines there; if he bruised at all, it wouldn't be too noticeable. 

He guided Carisi's head up so that he could see more closely; he kissed each spot that was raw and mottled with what he thought might be tenderness. When he looked into Carisi's eyes, he was sure it was. He looked up and glanced absentmindedly across the room (there he was, not making eye contact again), and laughed wryly at his own moodiness. Of course he was the type of person to lead a guy around like a dog and make him call him "daddy" and then go all soft. "When we're not using the belt you can feel free to call me Rafael."

"Okay, Rafael." Carisi put his head back on Rafael's chest, and Rafael held him. He was thinking of all the things he'd like to do to reciprocate -- he wanted him on all fours, he wanted to eat his asshole, he wanted to pull on his hair and get his cum all over something he liked so that he'd have an excuse to "punish" him -- but all in due time. For now, the holding part was nice.


	4. make love to me only and pull me deep underground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE! Mini Barisi road trip! Rafael is having some stresses, considering the fact that he's keeping threats against his life from everyone and he's been asked to do something annoying at work. It rains a lot and there is bad traffic so they pull over, but they also happen to be having a bit of a fight. Angry/emotional motel sex ensues and Carisi gets to take the lead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [chapter title is from "classic tapes" by hallelujah the hills but if you want the real inspiration for this chapter i highly recommend "the beach" by dr. dog]
> 
> This takes place between 17x14 and 17x15 and goes a bit off reservation (referencing stuff that isn't necessarily directly related on an onscreen case but as far as I know it is canon-compliant). "Angst in the rain" trope is my favorite thing. IT'S LONG. I became very committed to creating this sex scene because I wanted Angsty Rafael to enjoy himself, and the plot was. . .important? Sure. we'll go with that.

"I need to ask you a favor," Barba said as he was leaving the SVU squad room with Detective Carisi on his heels. He'd just been coordinating some warrants and authorizations for a planned sting on an online child porn ring and the ADA had a bad feeling about it; but he had other things on his mind, as always.

"What is it, counselor?" Carisi answered, but he was smirking through the "counselor" part. They were still in earshot of everyone else at the police station.

It had been a weird few months for Rafael but he was letting himself live with it, against all odds. He and Carisi had been intermittently seeing each other outside of work, doing everything from grabbing dinner near the courthouse like regular colleagues to slowly fucking each other awake on Sunday mornings. Maybe once a week they'd be together alone. In between, they didn't talk much. It was like hitting pause on the rest of the world. They hadn't defined their relationship, hadn't even really had much of a conversation about it at all, except that sometimes Carisi would look at Rafael and say, "I like this," and Rafael would take a deep breath and smile by way of an answer. While he liked taking out his frustrations on Carisi's body, he had also discovered that the detective was smarter and funnier in private than he was at work, and they had an easy manner with each other. 

Anxiety and loneliness were falling off of Rafael like a cracked shell. He almost appreciated being able to go back to work and not see Carisi alone for five or six days so he could reassemble his familiar armor and let the detective restart the process of pulling it all apart.

"I need you to drive me up to Green Haven," Barba said. They stepped into the cool but damp autumn air outside of the station. Rafael had known that Carisi's shift was ending and that he didn't have class on Fridays. Also that Carisi could drive. Rafael couldn't, and his usual car service couldn't accommodate him short notice.

"Green Haven? For what?"

"My boss wants our office to review the prisoner transfer process between the NYPD and the Department of Corrections and make sure that nothing improper occurred that could put the state at risk for a lawsuit. You know. With Yates and Rudnick escaping and all. I've been asked to supervise the pickup of some evidence -- mostly paperwork -- and to re-interview the warden. It just got pushed off on me. I could use a hand."

Carisi was rolling his eyes -- Barba knew this sounded boring.

"I also really need a ride. My regular driver is booked and I'm not comfortable using another service," Barba said. He'd been pretty good so far about keeping the weird, threatening phone calls and notes he always got under wraps. Only Carmen knew the extent of it, but he had given an abridged version to the District Attorney who had probably looped in the chief of police. He didn't want to say out loud that Carisi made him feel safe. Or say it otherwise, for that matter. He set his jaw and tried with all of his mental energy to look pissed.

He must have furrowed his brow too hard because Detective Carisi's face folded into an expression of melancholy concern. "My car's behind the building," he said, reaching out and almost grabbing Rafael's arm before stopping hismelf. "I'll take you. If you're really that worried about it."

~~~~~~~~~

The sun was setting on the Taconic Parkway, a deep orange sky with smears of dark black clouds that were approaching from the south. It was getting dark fast and Sonny had to whip his sunglasses off within a few minutes of their escape from Manhattan.

"So, paperwork, huh?" Sonny said. He was going to rag on Rafael a bit for recruiting him into one of the most boring tasks an ADA could be asked to do. But he was secretly grateful to have been brought along to do some of the detail work that came with being a state's attorney. He knew that not all of the job was catching bad guys; it was also covering the state's ass. He had mixed feelings about this, since he already knew about this from a cop's perspective, but he wanted Barba to show him how it was done on his side of the food chain.

"Yes, the most thrilling part of this job -- picking up months of transfer logs and checking for inconsistencies, and also being treated like a recently housebroken dog by a disgraced warden who is probably going to be asked to resign before the end of the year." Rafael sighed and slid low in his seat, burying his face in his jacket. Sonny had gotten used to his moods -- this was the one where he didn't want to be alone but was trying to look like he did.

"You get sent on a lot of errands like this?" Sonny used the word "errands" on purpose to needle at Rafael; it worked surprisingly well. In fact, much better than Sonny had expected.

"Well, no matter how many convictions or plea deals I get I always end up on my boss's shit list one way or another," he snapped.

"Hey, Rafael, I'm sorry," Sonny said, trying to catch a look at Rafael's face while keeping his eyes on the road. "I'm sure you'd rather be doing something else with your Friday night."

"Like pounding your asshole?" Rafael said, muffled, into the collar of his overcoat. "You wish." He sullenly looked out the window.

Carisi couldn't help but laugh. They rest of the drive passed without incident, except when Rafael glared at him for turning up Queen on the radio, and then glared harder when he didn't turn it down.

At Green Haven, they were presented with a few banker's boxes full of paper, and also a few flash drives. Rafael clearly didn't like the warden's tone when she handed everything over, and sweetly asked if he could use her conference room to glance over everything before getting back on the road.

"Thank you so much," he had said to her, as she stared daggers at the both of them and closed the door behind her.

Now, Rafael was on his laptop scrolling through files on one of the flash drives, and he had asked Sonny to read roll sheets from the week that Rudnick was transferred in from Rikers.

"If you see any names that stand out, write them down. Pay special attention to anyone who doesn't seem to be working a regular shift." Barba wasn't looking at him, but intently at his computer screen, eyes focused and mouth hanging a bit open. Sonny was distracted; he was thinking about sticking his fingers in that mouth. He bit his lip. Rafael was very deliberately not looking his way.

They spent about an hour there, making sure they had everything. Barba had a list to check against and he made Carisi check everything off with a purple fountain pen that he produced from his breast pocket, which he seemed to enjoy doing. "Check off the log book from the DOC van, Carisi," he would say with a bit of theatrics in the way he lifted and dropped the binder into its box. It was the most animated he'd sounded all day.

When they finally stepped beyond the gates of the prison, it had started to rain pretty badly. Carisi accidentally spun some mud up with his tires as he tried to peel out.

"Easy there," Barba said to him with a smile. Sonny was glad he'd decided to lighten up. He had been starting to get the impression that maybe something was bothering him that was more serious than being irritated about the menial nature of the task he'd been sent on that day.

"So really," Sonny said, pulling onto the main road, "what's been bothering you so much today?"

Carisi had expected a quick answer. When he didn't get one -- all he heard was Rafael breathe in sharply and hang there, as if at a loss for words -- he immediately started to worry. But he didn't press him for an answer just yet, because it was starting to rain even harder and he had to focus on pulling them out onto the highway. The windshield wipers didn't do much good against the wall of water descending from the sky above 45 miles per hour, so he drove slow, and flipped his blinkers on. Most other motorists were doing the same, though of course there were a few assholes in trucks who couldn't help but zoom around everyone else after doing some cursory tailgating. "Hey, fuck you too!" he said, sounding astonishingly like his own father, as an Escalade honked at him and passed him on the right.

"If I tell you this," Barba started, "you have to promise not to tell anyone else, even within the NYPD."

"Sure, sure, whatever," Sonny said. Of course Rafael had picked a moment to disclose shit to him when he was incredibly distracted trying to make sure they didn't get killed. He noticed a red halo of light around the next bend -- hundreds of taillights appeared about a mile up ahead. There must have been some kind of accident in the freak autumn storm. "Shit," Sonny added.

"I've been getting a lot of hangup phone calls lately," Rafael said. Sonny braked gently as they came up to the stopped traffic.

"Is that so?" Sonny asked rhetorically. He knew there was more to it than that. This was the same way that perps started confessing -- a small truth before a bigger one.

"I also got a typewritten note postmarked from Nyack yesterday." A dramatic pause -- of course he couldn't help it. "Telling me to watch my back because something would be coming for me."

"Are you fuckin' kidding me, Raf?" Sonny blurted.

"R-Raf?" Barba sputtered at him. "Since when are you calling me Raf?"

"I'm sorry, Rafael," Sonny said, trying to maintain his composure -- he knew he had fucked up. He knew that Barba's mother called him Raf and Rafi and he only knew this because she had called one morning when they were in bed together and he could hear her voice coming out of the phone speaker. He had started calling him Raf in his head weeks ago. It felt normal. But he also knew that now had not been a good time to try it on.

"Uh huh. Well, I'm not kidding."

"Seriously though, what the hell? When were you gonna tell me?"

"I wasn't."

"But you decided to now?" He inched forward, only able to really tell how close he was to the car in front of him by how brightly the red brake lights shone through the water on the windshield. There was a deafening pounding of rain on the car, and Sonny realized that they were almost shouting to hear each other.

"You asked!"

"You don't think that's something I ought to fucking know? I'm a _fucking_ cop, Rafael."

"I told my boss."

"Did you? Did you tell your boss about the note yesterday?"

Again, Rafael didn't answer right away. "No, I haven't told anyone else about that particular note."

"Well, you probably should, is all I'm saying."

"Just promise me that if this comes out again later that you'll act surprised."

"Oh, it might be hard for me to appear surprised that Rafael fucking Barba thought he was too badass to report threats against his life to the authorities." He tsked. "Shit, the assistant district attorney, it's not like he's a target or anything."

"This is ridiculous," Rafael said, staring unblinkingly at the column of traffic ahead of them.

"Oh I'll show you ridiculous--"

"No, I mean this traffic. Who knows what's going on up there. You should pull off. Find us a diner or something. Or a motel, even. I don't want to sit in a torrential downpour and bumper to bumper traffic for hours just to rubberneck at some horrifying accident."

"I'm gonna tell you something that you might not like to hear," Sonny said, inching onto the shoulder. He could see an exit up ahead and a few other cars had already pulled off that way. "I think you're scared to go home. I think you don't want to be alone in your apartment because you're scared." The rumble strip on the side of the road added to the chaos of rain noise in the car. Off of the highway they were plunged more or less into darkness and it seemed to be raining even harder than before, but Sonny wasn't deterred. He made a left at the stop sign because an arrow indicated there was some town that way.

"Now, I'm going to tell you something, Carisi," Rafael said, raising his voice a bit. Sonny heard it crack slightly. "You think that your worrying and preoccupation with others' feelings makes you better than everyone else, but you're not. You just need validation more than I do."

Sonny felt a bomb of shame bursting through his chest. Rafael had never been mean to him like this before. He'd been _mean_ , but not cruel. He knew what Rafael said was true in some small part, but it was just that, a small part. He also knew that what he'd said first was also true at least to the same degree.

Up ahead, there was a dim saucer of light which became a VACANCY sign for an extremely desolate-looking little motel, tucked in between some sagging pine trees. It was hard to see through the rain but there it was, and Sonny was driving very slowly on the narrow back road. He put his turn signal on and pulled in next to the main office, and then abruptly threw the car into park and hopped out without bothering to turn it off. He might have slammed the door pretty hard. Immediately he was drenched and cold water ran down his neck. But instead of running inside he walked at a regular pace as if it were sunny and 75.

~~~~~~~~~~

Rafael sat in the car in stunned silence. He wished Carisi had said something back to him, anything, so that he could be thinking about what to say next. He was stuck awkwardly waiting for the ball to come back into his court.

When the detective returned to the car (and he had walked back irritatingly slowly, too), he was soaked through. He pulled the car around to the back of the building, parked again, and jangled a key in his hand that had a big plastic number six attached to it.

"It's room number six, in case you couldn't tell," Sonny said.

"Aren't we going to go in?" Rafael asked. He wasn't really looking forward to getting out of the car.

"I don't know, are we, counselor?"

Rafael snatched the key from Carisi's hand and hopped out of the car. He had wanted to affect imperviousness the same way the detective had, but instead he flinched and tensed up. He sprinted the ten feet or so to the door of the room and looked back at Carisi, still in the car. "Come on!" he yelled, though he could barely hear himself over the rain.

Carisi finally got out and locked the car, while Rafael unlocked the room -- the doorknob was not at all forgiving and it took him a few tries to nudge the key in just the right way to throw the deadbolt open. It was an old door, after all. He flipped the lightswitch. It made sense that the door was finicky because the room itself looked like it had last been updated in roughly 1972. Rafael was pleased to notice, though, that it was relatively clean. A single vintage floor lamp with a dim bulb illuminated the room.

Rafael turned around, and saw that Carisi had to duck slightly to clear the door frame, which was definitely small by modern standards. He stifled a laugh as the detective shut the door behind them. There were two double beds with obnoxious floral duvets; Carisi crossed the room in a couple of long strides to take the one further from the door. He sat down and splayed his legs out at odd angles. 

"Are we fighting, Sonny?" Rafael asked softly, moving to stand nearer to the bed. He hadn't been expecting to call him Sonny, either, and briefly thought it would elicit the same reaction that he'd had when Sonny had called him Raf, but he didn't seem to actually notice.

"I don't know, counselor, are we fighting?" Carisi still sounded pretty pissed.

"Okay, you know what, I'm done with this. Let's just put the TV on and try to take a nap or something, and we'll drive back at like four in the morning, and we don't have to talk about this again."

"Oh, you're done with this? What if I'm not done with this?"

Rafael sighed. "You're right, I should have asked--"

"You're damn right you should have asked."

"Okay, so--"

"No, no, no. No 'okay, so.' You're not going to tell me what to do right now."

"What do you want from me, Carisi?" Rafael said, louder than he meant to, throwing his arms out in frustration.

"I just can't believe that you would be so stupid. You're a fucking district attorney, Rafael."

"It's not that I think I'm Superman or something. It's that I want it to just go away. I want to be invisible, Carisi. I don't want anybody to have to deal with me or deal with this. I don't want anybody to get hurt because of me." The words came out of Rafael's mouth before he'd even realized what he was saying. "Fuck," he added.

Carisi stood and walked towards him, reaching out to touch Rafael's face; they were both still dripping wet. Carisi's thumb found the sensitive spot behind his ear that he always touched to get Rafael lean into a kiss. But Rafael reached out and gripped the front of Carisi's shirt. He wasn't sure whether he meant to push him or pull him closer, but he definitely seemed to have shoved Carisi down on the bed. He was on top of him suddenly, desperately tearing away at all the absurd layers he was wearing and throwing them across the room -- his overcoat, his suit jacket. He ripped his tie clip off and literally tore the shirt Carisi was wearing, and the sound of rending cotton fabric combined with the urgent motion of Sonny's hips beneath his made him incredibly and painfully hard, combined with the mounting sense of anger and fear in his stomach. He could feel it creeping up his back, to his neck. He moaned it out as he leaned down to kiss Carisi's neck, where he also bit him, hard. Carisi yelled out, but not in protest.

Rafael loosened Carisi's tie with the hand that wasn't loosening his belt. The younger man's hands were clawing at Rafael's own wet clothes. When they were both down to their white undershirts, Rafael finally stopped for a moment, heaving breaths into Sonny's collarbone as he held onto him like he'd come upon a capsized lifeboat in a hurricane. Carisi ran a hand through his hair and pulled gently, but he was also hugging Rafael closer to him. Rafael opened his mouth, took a bit of the skin from Carisi's shoulder in his mouth, and bit again -- not too hard. Just a signal. 

Carisi grunted out. "Hey, shit--" he said, and gripped him harder. Rafael's hands reached up under Sonny's shirt and scratched at his ribs before lifting the shirt up over his head.

Confronted with the slightly damp paleness of Carisi's torso streaked with fresh red marks where his fingers had dragged across his skin, Rafael bit his lip and, more gently this time, ran his hands along every available inch of him. With the way Carisi's pants were now low on his hips, Rafael could see his erection bulging up at him. He leaned down to trace kisses over the new scratch marks, some old yellow bruises, some newer purple ones, the vestiges of bite marks. Their few months of history together somehow felt much longer as he looked at the graffiti of it. He put one hand underneath Carisi, at his tailbone, pushing that sensitive spot and with his other hand he reached down into his boxer briefs.

He finally met Carisi's eyes; the younger man looked stunned, breathless, and tired. They kissed. Rafael wanted to melt into the warmth of his mouth, the softness of his tongue.

"Let me fuck you," Carisi grumbled into his ear. "Would you let me?"

Rafael didn't say anything at first. He found another almost-healed bruise on Sonny's shoulder and went over it with his mouth again. He hadn't bottomed with Sonny yet, though he had to admit he'd thought about it, especially the last few days while lying awake at night. "Fuck me, Sonny," he said into Carisi's neck.

He let Sonny flip him over so that he was underneath him and the look on his face as he looked down at Rafael was almost comically serious. His mouth curled into a frown as he undid Rafael's belt and roughly pulled his pants off and then got up for a second to step out of his own. Standing there, naked, he crossed his arms and lifted one hand to bite at his nail. "Turn around," he said.

Rafael did as he was told, and the next thing he felt was Sonny's mouth on him, first kissing the back of his neck and then working his way down his back. Then hands on his hips, pulling him up, and that soft tongue licking at his asshole while one hand found Rafael's cock and started slowly jerking him off. He relaxed and let it happen; Carisi was attentive, using his thumb to catch precome and gently massaging the head.

"On your hands," Carisi said quietly. Rafael obliged and Carisi stuck one finger into him, probing gently while continuing to jerk him off. Then he added a second finger, gently opening him up.

Rafael rocked himself back against his fingers, murmuring incoherently. Carisi pulled his fingers out and used his tongue again to tease him, and then carefully lubed him up with spit and more gentle fingering.

"You want to look at me? I want to look at your face while I fuck you," Carisi said, matter-of-factly.

"I want you to look at my face," Rafael gasped, "while you fuck me."

Carisi flipped him over and tilted him up, and locked eyes with him as he continued running one hand over his shaft and used the other to push one of Rafael's thighs wider, and then grabbed his own dick and carefully put it inside him.

He was slow at first, shuddering and rolling his head back as he established an unhurried, languishing rhythm, glancing down at Rafael only occasionally as his hair fell forward over his face. "Fuck, daddy, you feel so good," he said, low and rasping.

Rafael could hardly believe how good the pressure felt; he felt unraveled and loose and broken down, and there was nothing but that sweet pressure inside him, like hot, white light. Sonny's dick was _perfect_ , he thought; he remembered the first time he looked at it and how it was so much thicker than he had expected. He appreciated that now more than ever. "Harder," he asked; he'd wanted it to come out as an order but it came out more like a plea.

So Sonny increased his speed, both with the way he was thrusting and with his hand, firmly around Rafael's cock. "Like that?" he asked.

Though Rafael could only manage a strained moan in the affirmative. He could feel himself tensing up like he was about to come; he realized his eyes were closed in his ecstasy and he willed them open to look up at Carisi. Sonny was looking down at him with an expression of wonder in his eyes, lips just open as he drew ragged breaths and pounded into him harder.

When Rafael came, Sonny angled his dick upwards so that it shot all over him, slowly pulling him to the point of oversensitivity, and all Rafael could do was squirm and scream and push back against the cock inside him.

Sonny gave him reprieve, if one could call it that, and gripped Rafael's thighs as he kept plowing him. "Fuck, Raf," he sighed, and then looked up to the heavens as he came; Rafael saw his body go limp, and then felt him pull out as he collapsed next to him in a heap. 

Sonny curled into the fetal position, shaking. Rafael reached out to him and felt the heat of his skin. They held each other then in a way they really had not before, still breathing hard. Rafael felt a need to kiss him, and so he did, putting a hand on his chin and guiding his mouth to his. They kissed slowly and desperately until their lips were over-warm and swollen. 

Rafael must have dozed off. He woke up minutes or hours later to Sonny's hand pulling him up and towards the shower, where they rinsed off and lazily scrubbed each other with the tiny soaps that smelled like baby powder.

"I'm sorry," Rafael said, sheepishly. It was the first word he'd said in quite awhile.

"I'm sorry too," Sonny answered, and laughed; Rafael saw the bright expression on his face and the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes, and laughed too. "But I wish you would have told me."

"I didn't know how. I'm not exactly good at being vulnerable."

"You're tellin' me!" Sonny said, and gestured down at the various marks all over his torso. "But you didn't do so bad back there, did ya?"

"Thank you, Carisi," Rafael said. "I mean that." He pulled Carisi into a kiss. He was surprised at how much lighter he felt. He knew that he was letting his guard down. For once in his life, it felt safe.


	5. the whisper justifies the scream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonny is coming to terms/accepting the comfort and stability that he gets from being dominated by Rafael and Rafael is kind of accepting his feelings of tenderness towards him; so you know, a happy ending and a grief blowjob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [this is post 17x23 (I KNOW OKAY), title is from "knots" by watsky]
> 
> I am bad at natural endpoints in fiction but I think they are happy at the end and really that's the wish fulfillment that fanfic is all about, am I right?

Sonny was hard up against the wall of his bedroom, hands tied up above his head. Rafael was pressed up against him, delicately using his teeth to pry the fabric from around the buttons on Sonny's dress uniform. "I wanna see you," he growled into Carisi's stomach, and bit him through the cotton; it tasted like a laundromat and cheap cologne. When Rafael got to the white of Sonny's undershirt he reached his hands in to untuck everything, and didn't hesitate to scratch, dragging his nails hard-but-not-too-hard along Sonny's hips and back.

Carisi twitched into him, moaned, gasped. It had been a long day, and he was tired, Rafael knew this, but the detective had begged him as they were walking up the five flights of stairs to his apartment (holding hands, Rafael uncharacteristically trailing behind) -- "Please, I want you to hurt me, I want you to make me scream." In a low voice, of course, barely above a whisper, but Barba had been able to hear the desperation in it. They were both a little tipsy, too; not stumbling up the stairs but still maybe rushing up them too fast. Rafael had let Sonny's firm hand pull him in, where the detective quickly threw the deadbolt and unholstered his gun. Rafael had been aroused immediately by that fluid motion, and the sight of Carisi's expressive hands on the grip of his firearm. His long fingers put it in a lockbox above his fridge; Rafael wanted to reach out to him as he was reaching up, but he had been waiting to be begged again.

Sonny had walked into the bedroom without looking back; Rafael had watched his hips moving ahead of him and had been overcome with the urge to hit him with a switch, though he did not have one handy.

Instead he came up behind him and grabbed the back of his head by the hair, turning him around so that he could get a better look. While he had lingered his hand at the back of Carisi's neck, he used his other hand to undo his own tie. Rafael precisely positioned Sonny's wrists in front of him and then roughly looped the tie around them several times, leaving enough length to tie a sturdy knot that he knew no one could slip out of.

And that's how they got to where they were now -- Rafael had shoved him up against a wall and started going to work. After he had carefully undone all of the buttons (and had been so careful not to tear anything, not wanting to disrespect the uniform), he undid the detective's gun belt and unbuttoned his trousers. Then he stopped suddenly and backed away, and took a moment to stare.

Carisi was slumped awkwardly against the wall, breathing heavily, hands dropped now to his front. The odd angles of his legs and arms drew in Rafael's eye like an Escher woodcut -- that was one of his favorite things about looking at Carisi, that he seemed mathematically impossible, or could perhaps be an optical illusion.

Carisi bit his lower lip and rattled out: "Come on, touch me, please."

"On your knees for me," Rafael heard himself say, and Carisi obliged him, slowly, trying to keep his balance without use of his hands. He almost looked like he was kneeling to pray.

Rafael quickly stepped out of his pants and stroked himself hard; he was already more than three quarters of the way there, as he usually was when he was looking at Carisi on his knees. Rafael recognized the plea in his eyes: he raised the hand that wasn't wrapped around his dick and presented the back side of it. He wound up a bit and then brought it down across Carisi's cheek. He had done it pretty hard, but he'd long ago learned how to place his backhand slaps so that they caught more jaw than cheek, and didn't make too much noise, or hurt more than was immediately desired. Carisi had grunted, yelled out, but not in pain. When Rafael brought his hand back to the right side of his face, he stroked his jawline and smiled.

"Are you gonna be good for me, Sonny?" Rafael asked, and Sonny tried to gasp out an answer, but instead Rafael guided his dick into the younger man's open mouth.

\-----------

Carisi was flush and weightless there on the floor, enjoying the taste of Barba's cock in his mouth and the warm feeling of it in the back of his throat. He lapped at the bottom of his shaft hungrily, because yes, he wanted to be very good indeed.

Rafael was gently thrusting into his mouth, running his hands through his hair, and Sonny couldn't remember the last time he had felt so safe.

It had been an awful day of course. Drinking and mourning had always taken a toll on Sonny, and being from a big Italian family, he had done a lot of it in his lifetime to know how deflated he usually felt when the wake dispersed and he was alone.

But, he wasn't alone now; he felt present. Being on his knees and having a task in front of him, and feeling the taut restraint on his wrists, grounded his body and let him feel free at the same time.

He reached his tied hands up to gently touch his partner's balls, to graze his fingers along the inside of Rafael's thighs, as he continued to suck on his dick, and waited to be told what he needed to hear.

"So good for me, Sonny," Rafael breathed. He removed his dick from Sonny's mouth slowly, moving the tip around the outside of his mouth, and Carisi wanted so badly to get it back. He opened his mouth for it, but a firm hand on his shoulder kept him just out of reach. "You wanna make me come?" Rafael asked.

"Yes, Daddy," Sonny just managed to get out, before Rafael guided his mouth back onto his cock, and Sonny obliged and yielded to each thrust.

"I'm so close; you're being so good," Rafael said, fluttering his eyes open for a second to see Sonny's, wide, looking back up at him -- Sonny blushed, and ran the tip of his tongue across the most sensitive spot he had yet discovered, before again taking the entirety of Barba's shaft into his mouth and letting it touch the deepest part of his throat.

When Rafael came, he graciously swallowed all of it, and took the risk of teasing him slightly with his tongue before he was finished; Barba rocked his hips into him and clearly didn't mind.

Barba sank to his knees to untie Sonny, and Sonny surprised himself by instead pulling him into a kiss, pressing his tongue against his lover's and trying to express with that how grateful he was. When their lips parted, Rafael pressed his forehead to Sonny's and undid the knot; but Sonny didn't move his hands from where they were, pressed in between Rafael's, which were about the same size as his but felt stronger, firmer. The tenor between them changed with that kiss.

Rafael pulled Sonny to bed, and they sat on the edge together, lazily disrobing before falling back into each other's arms.

"You holding up okay?" Rafael asked, tenderly brushing some hair away from Carisi's forehead.

"Better now, you know?"

"Me too." Barba paused. "Do you want me to stay tonight?"

Carisi swallowed hard, but then broke into a smile that he couldn't help. "If you stay now, after all this, I think it means that we're doing more than just fucking." He laughed.

"We are though, aren't we, Carisi?"

"We are," Sonny answered. He thought back to all of the times he'd lost someone or screwed something up and had to go back to his bedroom or apartment or desk and be alone. "I needed you today, Rafael," Sonny added, committing himself to meeting Barba's eyes when he said it.

Rafael pulled him in close by the hips and embraced him, and Sonny felt his mouth on his collarbone, kissing him gently instead of biting him as he usually did. "I want to take care of you," he whispered.

Sonny relaxed, took a deep breath, and let himself feel it.


End file.
